Trump Attacks Botendaddy on Qweefter: A Humid Five Mile Park Run

Trump: “Botendaddy stinks, he’s horrible, disgusting. I hate him. Great guy, he’s wonderful. You should get to know him, fantastic. He’s awful, terrible, bleeding from every orifice. He’s a super guy. Just amazing. You’ll love him.”

QNN: “Botendaddy and Putin. Have you ever seen both of them in the same place at the same time?”

Royal Canadian News Network: “Is Botendaddy really Klaatu? Is Klaatu the Beatles?”

I was at the University all day working on my research. Lots of data. I was joined by the Punker Model Writer Chick.

“Botendaddy. I want to be honest with you. You are the most repulsive, disgusting, horrific, ghastly, ancient, rotting, ugly, smelly creature I have ever had the mis-privilege of knowing. I want to chew my arm off to get away from you. You make me feel dirty, used, degraded, un-feminine, not even human. F@&$ me right now. Right here. Use me contaminate me. Own me. Subjugate me. Fill me with your vile fluids. Mark me, brand me. Leave me feeling filthy. F@&# me goddamn you! It’s not a f@&king request, you rotting freak! Give me your goddamned P@?#&!!!!”

So my dear readers. I f@&ked her. There I said it. Are you happy now? Did you get your little thrill? The poor PMWC is utterly bespoiled and it’s your fault. You, my beloved readers wanted me to f@&%  her. So I did. And yet, you’re mad at me? You egged me on! You made me do it! Look at how ashamed she is!

“Botendaddy. Let’s go for a run. I’m not even going to shower first. I want to parade my sticky, caked-on contamination for all the world to see. To see how you degraded me. Ah the smell of it! The humiliation! O Botendaddy, O hail to thee blithe spirit! I grovel before thee!”


The portal

So we ran. We got stuck behind a freight train. No really a goddamned freight train. It ruined my 8 minute mile as we had to run through a campus garage at Frick-Scaife Tech University, then across the Conservatory then into the Park. An 8:29 first mile followed by two miles at 19:38 hen the uphill slog in 80’s plus degrees with high humidity.

“That massive adult diaper and enormous incontinence button-snapped overpants over-heating you again? Ah, I can almost taste the yeasty stench of thy hideous bladder. Your third, fourth and fifth miles are pathetic.”

She was right. I had no position, no velocity, no acceleration, no jerk, no jounce, no fifth derivative of position.

“Well maybe if you didn’t make me f@&$ you before we ran I would have more energy.”

Her face turned beet red.

“How awful. I gave myself to you. I was vulnerable. I needed your love and affection and you make fun of me? Why not completely destroy my feminity? Defecate on my feelings. Just tear out my uterus too, why don’t you. You are lucky any woman would even talk to you, you repulsive creepy freak.”

“I’m sorry, PMWC. You’re a wonderful young girl. You have a great body. I really enjoyed {CENSORED PA DEPT OF AGRICULTURE pursuant to PA Cons Stat no 87-312 of 1939 for extreme Communist pre-version} I almost had a heart attack. I especially liked the part where you {CENSORED PA DEPT OF FISHERIES AND HATCHERIES}.”

“Yeah that was good, wasn’t it, Yon’ Botendaddy?”

She was smiling again.

“Triple mint Espressocino?”

Peace be the Botendaddy




About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
This entry was posted in Critic's Corner, Dining, Exercise, Fashion, Food, People, Running, Technology, Weather and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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